Kiss Me
by quitesirius
Summary: During Bill and Fleur's reception, Fred and George hatch a plan involving their two favorite couples. RHr, HG, and a bit o' MollyArthur.


A/N: Wow. Two fics in one day. That's some sort of record for me. Anyway, I've been pondering this fic for a while and just up and wrote it. I hope it's good. If not, perhaps a rewrite, because I think this is cute-ish. I don't own the song "Kiss Me", by Sixpence None the Richer, or "Shout" by Otis Redding and the Knights. Yeah. I needed to write this after "Remember", because that's just sad.

Enjoy, my lovelies.

* * *

The wedding had been so beautiful it had bordered on heavenly.

The Weasleys' garden had been transformed into an Eden the morning before the ceremony and the day had been spent making it perfect. There were roses, a water fountain, a gazebo, fairy lights, a hardwood dance floor laid out on the lawn, benches, and a magnificent arch coated with ivy and flowers. Each member of both families had made a contribution, and it was a testament to the importance of the event that Fred and George had not bewitched anything to give someone a black eye.

The sun had come in at just the right angle and the photographer had never had such an easy couple to photograph. The wedding party was exceedingly happy, each member knowing that this may well be the last cause for celebration for a long while. Harry had taken the photographer aside and asked for several prints of the photos and told him he was willing to pay extra. The photographer had laughed and said he would not accept payment from Harry Potter—the pictures would be free.

Bill could not stop thanking him.

The reception was in full swing and the fairy lights were twinkling brightly. Night had fallen and the music was so loud that people were shouting to communicate, but they smiled the entire time.

Mr. Weasley had insisted on using his old jukebox. He had salvaged it from an antique store years and years before and most of the songs didn't play correctly. Hermione, Ginny, and Fleur had spent the last three days bewitching it to work. They had also taken the liberty of updating the songs. Hermione had taken care of the technicalities, Ginny had worked most of the simpler spells, and Fleur had picked the music.

There was not one single argument the entire time.

The jukebox was a huge success, and Arthur spent a good deal of the party leaning on it and explaining how it worked to anyone who would listen. "Yes, ecleticity, you see," he would say, and Harry would laugh.

Harry spent most of his time on the sidelines, just watching. He was content to do so, knowing full well that memories of tonight would help him get through the tough nights ahead. He watched Bill and Fleur partake in their first dance, and smirked when they kissed at the end of the song. He watched Mrs. Weasley drag Ron out on the floor and force him to try the two-step. He laughed outright when Fred and George took to doing the tango, Fred with a rose in his teeth as he and his twin marched across the floor.

He wondered whether or not he should ask Ginny to dance.

She looked stunning in her bridesmaid dress of lavender, and Harry could not tear his gaze away from her as she stood on the opposite side of the yard talking with Gabrielle and Hermione. He wished he had not had to let her go, to say that he had to leave to go and save the world.

Stupid, noble reasons.

"Oy, Harry, why so glum?" Fred asked, plopping into the chair beside his younger brother's best friend.

George followed suit on Harry's other side.

He shrugged with one shoulder and George followed his gaze. "Aha! He's ogling our sister," he told Fred importantly.

"I would be mortally offended if it were anyone else," Fred replied. "Have to beat the snot right out of the Boy Who Lived and lock up dear Ginny in the attic."

Harry chuckled. Somehow he didn't mind their jabs on this subject. This was their way of encouragement, he thought idly. Strange people.

"You ought to ask her to dance," George said, elbowing him. "Be a long while before we're celebrating again."

Harry looked at George and shook his head. "Nah. I don't think I should."

"Oh, come on!" Fred said, exasperated, from Harry's other side. Harry looked at him. "You and Ron and Hermione are going to run off and be all heroic in two days. If you don't dance with her, you'll break her heart and then I'll have to break your legs, Potter."

If Fred hadn't been grinning, Harry would have been frightened. On second thought, maybe the grin was scary.

"I dunno…" Harry said.

"Do it," the twins said in sync. "She'll be so sad if you don't," George continued.

Harry resigned himself to it. It wouldn't be bad, he thought. He could dance a bit, and she was so beautiful, and he would definitely enjoy this memory while he was away. He rose from his chair, looked to both twins for encouragement, and stumbled forward when Fred clapped him on the back.

Fred and George smirked when Ginny's face lit up at Harry's approach. He held out his hand, and she smiled outright, and they made their way onto the floor. Fred moved into Harry's vacated seat, nudged his brother, and nodded toward the couple.

"I hope they can work it all out," Fred said, capping it off with a sigh.

While Fred Weasley could not be considered a true romantic, he could have been considered a closet romantic. He was all for romantic happiness, and his parents, no matter what he said, inspired him in that department. He had promised himself he would find that someday, and he was definitely going to help anyone else along the way that looked like they had a shot at true love.

And that was something Harry and Ginny definitely qualified for.

As did a couple of other individuals he could think of.

"Yeah, I think they will," George replied, not realizing that Fred wasn't listening.

He had his eye open for his youngest brother and Hermione Granger. He shifted his gaze around the floor. Neither was dancing. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the dim figures on the other side of the floor, behind the punch bowl. Nope, not there, either. He spotted Ron sitting in the grass, watching Harry and Ginny and looking thoughtful.

He wasn't going anywhere.

Fred continued the search for Hermione. When he finally spied her talking with Arthur by the jukebox, he was struck by a brilliant idea.

"Oy, George."

George tore his eyes away from the spectacle and looked at Fred questioningly. "Hmm?"

His twin shifted his brows deviously and put a hand on his shoulder. "I've got an idea," he said mischievously. "And I need some help."

And who was George to deny his brother that?

* * *

"Oy, Ron," Fred stated, nudging his brother with his foot.

Ron looked up at him, a bit confused. "What?"

Fred feigned exasperation and sat down beside Ron. "Don't get shirty with me! Just coming over to see how my favorite brother is doing."

Ron lifted a brow. "George is your favorite brother. Have you had too much Firewhiskey?"

He sighed heavily and laughed a bit. "Oh, Ron, ever the jester. I meant second-favorite. Slip of the tongue and all that. Anyway, I see you're sitting over here alone."

"Not any more."

Fred reached out and clapped Ron on the back. "Well spotted. Now, why is it that you're not cutting a rug? Dancing your troubles away? Getting down and funky?"

Ron was definitely sure that Fred was drunk. He was acting strange, even for Fred. His basic instinct was to suspect ulterior motives, and he tried to think of what the twins could possibly be up to. He was always suspicious when he saw one without the other, because for them, that was unnatural.

"Dunno. I don't like to dance, I guess."

"Don't like to dance, or haven't found the right partner?"

"What?"

Fred did not have to fake his impatience this time. "Maybe you like to dance, but you don't like the people you dance with. Maybe you need to ask someone new."

Ron was about as sharp as a marble that night, and he knit his brows in confusion. Yep, Fred was under the influence of something. "Eh?"

"Ask Hermione to dance, you prat! Honest, do I need to draw you a chart?"

Ron's jaw dropped a bit. "Ask Hermione to dance? No. No." He shook his head. "I don't think so, you loon. Why don't you dance with her?"

Fred sighed again and gave him a pointed look. "Because I'm not in love with her."

"Well—I—but—no, wrong idea. We're just—I just—"

"Very eloquently put, Ron. Now go on, ask her to dance." He rose to his feet and pulled Ron up with him.

Ron's eyes were locked on Hermione, who was on the other side of the snack table, talking quietly with George and nibbling at a Petzrel, or whatever they were called—something Harry had brought. Muggle thing. Who knew?

"I—I can't!" He turned to Fred with a look of absolute horror on his face. "She'll say no, and I can't dance, and what if I step on her toes--?"

Well, this was much harder than he had expected. But, luckily, Fred always had a backup plan. He scratched casually at the back of his head, and George took his cue.

"You want to dance, Hermione?"

"Well, would you look at that," Fred said regretfully. "George beat you to it. Ah well. Better luck next time, eh?"

Ron about broke his neck when he turned to watch George lead Hermione out onto the floor just as a slow song began. He swallowed heavily. He knew that Fred and George had planned this, he knew it, but at the moment, it wasn't important.

Hermione was dancing with George.

Too closely.

And George was whispering in her ear.

And Hermione giggled.

Giggled.

This was not good.

He turned to Fred, a bit panicky. "What do I do, Fred?"

Fred bit back the urge to chuckle. "I think the standard procedure would be to walk over there, tap George on the shoulder, and ask to cut in. Then George should either challenge you to a bout of fisticuffs or allow you to step in. Then either you lay the smack down on George, in which case I will have to tromp you, or you dance with Hermione."

He nodded. "Right… walk… tap… smack down… step in…dance…"

Fred lifted his brows a bit and patted Ron on the shoulder as if he were a slow toddler. "Right. That'd be the game plan. Now GO!"

He gave Ron a bit of a push and he wanted to curse the jukebox into oblivion when the song ended. Ron looked back at him, and he shrugged. The next song began with a slow, melodic guitar riff. Fred pointed back toward the floor, where George and Hermione were still dancing.

"_Kiss me out on the bearded barley_

_Light-ly beside the green, green grass…"_

Ron swallowed, steeled himself, and timidly headed onto the floor. He tapped George on the shoulder, muttered something, and George stepped aside. Hermione guffawed and had a giant smile on her face when Ron awkwardly stepped forward, put one hand on her waist and took her hand in his.

George came over to Fred, smirking. "Didn't take as long as I thought."

"What'd you tell Hermione?" Fred asked.

"I told her what you were telling Ron. She found it to be hilarious, thought it wouldn't work. Bit of a shock when he did come over there."

* * *

"… _Beneath the milky twilight,_

_Lead me out on the moonlit floor..."_

Ron thought he was going to be sick.

He felt feverish, and dizzy, and his body tingled at her touch. He forgot where his feet were and he narrowly missed her toes time and again. He felt homicidal toward his twin brothers, and if he had not had Hermione in his arms, he may well have marched over there and cursed them.

But he had Hermione in his arms and she was smiling up at him. He rather liked it.

Maybe that was why he was nauseous. Odd.

"I'm surprised you came over here," she said just loud enough to be heard. "I'm glad though," she said quickly.

He nodded.

"_So kiss me…"_

He swallowed again and felt the need to loosen his tie. This song… it was too much pressure! Was she thinking that he was going to kiss her? Had he inadvertently given her some sort of signal by asking her to dance to this song? What had he gotten himself into?

"Ron, are you alright?" Hermione asked, looking concerned.

"Fine," he said much more squeakily than he liked.

"Alright…" and she moved a bit closer and leaned her head on his chest.

His heartbeat quickened and he looked over to see Fred and George giving him the thumbs up. They were soon joined by Harry and Ginny, both carrying punch. George gave them a quick explanation of the situation and they too gave the thumbs up.

Indeed, there were quite a few people watching. He spotted his parents also on the floor, and they were looking at him proudly. His mother looked like she was silently hoping for something. When they realized Ron had caught them, they smiled briefly and then went back to their conversation.

He bit his lower lip and looked down at Hermione. Her hair was beautifully styled and there were diamond clips scattered among her dark curls. The lavender dress she wore was a perfect shade for her, he thought, and it suited her figure well. He blushed a bit at his own thought and allowed himself to continue gazing at her. Her eyes were closed and she sighed contentedly.

"_Kiss me down by the broken tree house_

_Swing me up on its hanging tire_

_Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat_

_We'll take the trail marked on your father's map._

_Oh, kiss me."_

For a moment he thought the song was over, and his chest tightened painfully. When the music surged back to life, he breathed a sigh of relief.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, smiling. "I like this," she said, eyes twinkling in the fairy light.

She was so beautiful, he thought. And he really liked her smiling at him like that. It was much better than yelling. He smiled back. He brought the hand he was using to guide them close to his chest and she looked mildly surprised, which he imagined he did too.

A strange noise caught his ear and he glanced in the direction of his so-called friend and siblings. Ginny and Harry were dancing, too, but they were looking at Ron and trying to show him how to dance a bit closer. He ignored them. Fred was about to hurt himself trying to say, "Kiss her!" at the right volume, and George was trying to act it out.

"They're very strange," Hermione commented, following his gaze.

He blushed to the top of his ears. "Yeah, they are."

"I can't believe we're leaving in a couple days," she said in disbelief, ignoring the group just as much as he was.

His heart sank. "Yeah, I know. Weird, huh?"

"…_silver moon sparkling._

_So kiss me."_

"Things are really going to change." She sighed and moved a bit closer to him.

He thought he was going to keel over. But… it was nice. This wasn't like being with Lavender. He didn't want to feign sleep or pretend he couldn't speak English (he'd never done it, but he'd thought about it). He wanted her to stay where she was, and not budge, and he liked that she made his skin tingle, now that he was used to it.

Hermione made him smile and yell and want to throw things and laugh. Lavender just annoyed him. This was… this was what it was supposed to be like, he thought. You shouldn't avoid your girlfriend like the plague. You should want to dance with her at your brother's wedding.

"_So kiss me…"_

He was sure the song was ending soon, because the singer kept repeating herself. He felt his stomach tighten, and his muscles locked, and his brain went very, very fuzzy. All he could see was Hermione in her lavender dress, and when he thought of lavender, he thought of her dress and not Miss Brown. Her eyes were sparkling and she looked thoughtful, which was when he found her very beautiful indeed (second only to smiling, and afterward came angry).

He didn't even realize that he was leaning in. He studied her features meticulously and when his eyes landed on her lips, he noticed that she was wearing shimmering, frosty lip gloss. He vaguely wondered what it tasted like.

Fred, George, Harry, Ginny, Arthur, and Molly were watching the moment unfold as if it were a thriller movie. Arthur and Molly had stopped dancing, and were just standing, holding each other and not moving.

"Go on, you prat," George muttered.

"Can't get a better shot," Harry encouraged quietly.

"Don't be stupid, Ron," Ginny whispered.

"_So kiss me…"_

Hermione was looking at him curiously, hopefully. Had he finally gotten the message? Was he going to do it? Was her long wait over? She held her breath and waited.

He came closer, slowly, but surely. A flurry of thoughts and memories bombarded him.

Angry canaries, brewing potions in the lavatory, midnight library searches, large teeth, silly fights, serious fights, jealousy, quiddtich, they were leaving soon… horcruxes… death… no second chances.

Love.

Slowly, as if falling asleep, he closed his eyes and took the plunge just as the song ended.

Neither heard the applause from the group on the edge of the floor, or Molly's mild, "Finally!" They did not know that Bill and Fleur were smiling at them, or that Harry and chosen that moment to kiss Ginny, too.

There were no fireworks or explosions, but there were shivers and tingles that were just as good.

When Ron pulled away, he did not look into her eyes, and he did not say anything romantic. Instead, he smiled dreamily and muttered, "So that's what that is supposed to be like."

And Hermione threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again, nearly throwing him off-balance. After Hermione pulled away, the two smiled knowingly at each other and Hermione wiped her lip gloss from his mouth. He sighed happily, not realizing he was still holding her hand.

_"Weeeeel!_

_"You know you make me want to shout!_

_"Kick my heels up and shout!_

_"Throw my hands up and shout!"_

There was a sudden rush onto the dance floor. There was no pattern to the dancing until Harry and Hermione started to show everyone the muggle steps from a movie they had seen. Everyone was trying to keep up, laughing, and the stars twinkled overhead.

Fred and George were particularly exuberant in their dancing, and even Ron had joined in. He made his way between them and nudged Fred as the music quieted a bit.

"I owe you guys one," he said. Fred simply grinned back and George winked.

_"A little bit louder now!_

_"Shout!_

_"A little bit louder now!_

_"SHOUT!"_

Nobody stopped dancing until the sun peeked over the trees, and when they did stop, Hermione and Ron walked back into the house hand-in-hand.

Molly put a blanket over them when she found them asleep on the couch, Hermione's head on Ron's shoulder and his head atop hers. Both were still grinning.


End file.
